As Long As You're Mine
by Merina Thropp
Summary: The ultimate Fiyeraba. Title says it all; the most drawn-out, incomparably long version of As Long As You're Mine, written as a full scene. Before, during, and after. Fiyeraba, multi-chap.
1. Chapter 1

**Most versions of this famous scene/song I have so far read feature Elphaba whisking a love-struck Fiyero onto her broom and away into the forest glade, where he succumbs instantly and utterly to her wicked ways and both make passionate love until morning…swoon…**

**Whilst I love reading fics based around this storyline, I decided to try and write a different take on the scene (just for the sake of making life harder for myself XD), with a slightly stronger Fiyero, and more humane, moralistic Elphaba. It always bothered me how she seemed to be able to disregard Fiyero's engagement to Glinda so quickly and easily, so I factored that in too, making this a longer and more angsty interpretation of the scene. **

**Reviews are like free front-row tickets to Wicked for me!**

* * *

"_Fine – fine, go…!"  
_

"…_you deserve each other!"_

* * *

We ran for our lives.

Through the gleaming polished-wood doors of the Wizard's chamber and down the dark corridor I ran, he ran, _we _ran; Glinda's voice – that sweet, wind-chime ring I loved so much – still resounding in my ears, the Captain of the Gale Force – _of all men_ – panting and puffing and half-running, half-falling along behind to keep up, both of hands tight and warm around one of mine…

…warm. Strong. Very pleasant to feel. Very pleasant indeed…

_Shut up. Stop it Elphaba, just listen to yourself, stop it, stop it…_

But it was useless. Thoughts and feelings I knew, _knew_ I couldn't let through were already creeping softly around the back of my mind; the same ones that had already crawled their way in deep enough to make me not stop, not refuse, not turn back and insist that he stay loyal to the bastard he'd already pledged himself to; had to leave me be, let me run alone, stay back where he was safe, where he was happy, stay loyal to the one I knew he loved…had loved for so many years, now…

But I hadn't stopped. I hadn't refused. And though every part of my body screamed for me to stop and think – just _think, _for a second, about what I was dragging this brainless, beautiful man into – I didn't. Long-ingrained instincts, rooted far too deep to be denied at such a crucial moment, had already taken over – and my mind had one thought and one thought only to concentrate on now.

_Get out of the Wizard's palace._

"Elphaba…!" Fiyero was gasping behind me, chest heaving – _already out of breath, of course, stupid pampered prince that he was_ –and slowing his running feet to a drag with every passing second. "Elphie, slow down! Wait a second…!"

"_Shh,_" I hissed, skittering to a stop as a sound caught my ears. Fiyero crashed headlong into me, ending up in a heap on the floor with a painful sounding crunch.

"Be _quiet!_" I hissed – _for Oz's sake, hadn't being in the Gale Force taught him anything? – _and he froze, instantly, in his position, like some absurd green and gold statue. I smothered a cackle in spite of myself, then turned to face the open corridor as the sound I'd heard – swift footsteps – grew louder and louder, marred by the swish of fabric brushing the floor…closer…closer…

_They were headed for this corridor._

Stomach somersaulting, I whirled round to face the still frozen form of the Captain of the Gale Force.

"Get behind that statue!" I hissed – _he couldn't be found with me – _gesturing wildly with one end of Broomstick to the gigantic marble sculpture of a frowning magician that stood a few feet away; the perfect hiding place.

Fiyero blinked at me stupidly.

"Huh –?"

"_Now!_" I seized him by one medal-encrusted arm and yanked him up, shoving him behind me and raising Broomstick ready – _if they dared to so much as _touch _him…_

I almost heard the little _click _as comprehension dawned in Fiyero's ever-abnormally slow brain.

"No," he whispered, his voice very different now. "No, Elphaba, if this is my –"

"It is _not_ your pathetic little troop of guards," I sighed in exasperation. "Can't you hear the steps? It's someone wearing high heels –"

He gasped."- Glinda -?"

"Of course not _Glinda_, idiot, she's still back in the throne room, which is where this person is headed, so get behindthat statue…!"

"But Elph –"

"- if they find you with me –!"

"- I don't care what they find, as long as it's not you!"

I glowered at the doors behind which the footsteps were still approaching, unable to tear my eyes away from the incoming danger – _stupid, noble idiot, why couldn't he just do as he was told? _

"Fiyero –"

"I don't want -!"

I threw caution to the wings and rounded on him.

"I don't carewhat you want, _Captain – _do as I say, or I will make y – _mph!_"

– I never got to finish my sentence. No longer scrutinising the doors like I should have been, I didn't even _see_ as Madam Morrible, of all people, bobbed suddenly into sight and flounced her way through the entrance to the Wizard's private chamber, chuckling to herself like a mad woman.

But in the end…it wouldn't have mattered if I had or not. Because no sooner had I whipped around, Broomstick raised and bristling in preparation for a fight, a pair of horribly familiar arms had pinned my own to my sides, clapping a frantic hand over my mouth so tight I could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Instinctively, I struggled, flailing about for all I was worth – _how did he expect me to defend either of us if he had me pinned in such a way as this? – _but he ignored me, half-dragging us back behind the statue – _Oz, he wasn't half strong – _whilst Morrrible bounced her way through the doors, and let them swing shut behind her.

I heard muffled voices dive into animated conversation beyond the thick oak wood…then silence.

Fiyero heaved a sigh of relief – and then yelped as I twisted away from him, one brief spurt of magic sparking from my fingertips to release his arms – and made a dart for poor Broomstick, who had rolled off into a corner, creaking in protest, when he'd grabbed me.

"Ouch…sweet Oz …"

"_Next time,_" I almost snarled, as angry at myself now as I was him. "You do as I tell you_, Captain_."

He shook his head, still rubbing his forearms and wincing.

"Elphaba, come on, you can't seriously have expected me to stand by and watch anyone capture you whilst I hid safe and sound, anymore than –"

"Than Icould have stood by and watched _you _-?" I began heatedly, fists clenching.

"Well, _could _you?"

I opened my mouth to retort – and then realised what he'd actually asked me. My throat closed up in horror as I imagined, for the first time, standing safe and hidden whilst something…_anything_…harmed Fiyero. I stared at him a second, lost in the horror of the thought – and then looked away quickly.

_Stupid, brainless, noble idiot…brainless…beautiful idiot…_

I swallowed hard, face flushing dark with colour.

_Not that girl, remember, Elphie, not that girl…_

"No," I tried to snap, and failed, my eyes on the ragged edge of my pitiful excuse for a dress. "No, I couldn't. Not ever. Never."

I could feel his eyes on me, feel Broomstick turning with a gentle creak in my hands to eye me too; feel them both staring at me like I'd grown an extra head or something. _Honestly. _Fiyero's gaze burned like sparks hitting straw onto my face, my downcast eyes, my tangled mess of hair and rags of dress, over and up and down my ghastly, bone-thin body…

My cheeks heated all over again; the colour felt strange, alien to me, revealing so much, _horrible_...and infuriatingly familiar from just a few moments back all those years ago, back at Shiz…

_Not that girl, Elphie… _

I turned on my heel and stalked away, over to the nearest window with head held high – _I would _not _let him see it, cursed Oz, let him see what he was doing to me, all over again_. I pretended to scan the palace grounds for any stray packs of guards.

"Elphaba?"

I glared, cursing my stomach for the little flip it performed at the sound of him speaking my name with such…such Oz-damned _emotion. _My eyes stuck glued to my putrid green fingers lying like thin slugs on the ledge of the windowsill, hating, _hating_ myself for the indescribable warmth flooding me…_ugh_, how did he _do _it…?

But then…I felt Fiyero's familiar, heavy hand move to rest so gently on my shoulder – and all thought of trying to vanquish the blush from my face vanished. I froze.

"Elphaba?" he murmured again, and though I still refused to let him see my face I could almost _feel _how close he was standing behind me now, and Oz, his touch felt so good, _much too good_, memories of Lion cubs and poppy fields flooding my mind…

"Elphaba? You all right?"

_Understatement of the century_ – I was everything _but _right, in all the wrong but somehow even more right that the right opposite this wrong could ever be. Which made no sense. But neither did anything else…anything…

…_not that girl…_

…anything but his hand, which I noticed had a rather large, glittery ring on it – a terrible reminder of something I refused to let myself think of – drifting up my shoulder, dusting over the stray threads and scraps of material, up to my neck, the high collar of my dress, his fingers lingering at my cheek…

"We should go," I snapped out, breaking the spell – _oh Oz, just listen to me – _voice strained, but reassuringly brisk once again. I jerked away from his touch, wheeling around to get Broomstick reading for flying. "We've wasted enough time already, they'll be sounding the alarm just as soon as Morrible finds out what has happened –"

"Elphaba –"

"Keep your voice down, for Oz's sake!" I snapped before he could delay us any longer, distract me with any more velvet-swathed tones, any more murmurs of my name, my _true_ name, make my heart flutter like a Oz-damned Hummingbird any longer – I tore my hat out of my pocket and pulled it on, turning back to the window to mount Broomstick –

– and collided headlong with him.

He caught me in his arms as swiftly, as effortlessly, as naturally as if I were a fly caught in his trap.

_Oh Oz._

For a few seconds, neither of us moved. I gawked like a moron at him; blank, uncomprehending. We were so close, _so close_ – still not an inch of bare skin touching, but oh, sweet _Oz,_ I wanted to touch him…

…almost as though he had read the thought straight from my mind, I felt his hands suddenly, firmly twine themselves with mine. The touch was a thousand times more alien and a million more exhilarating from how it had felt that first time, all those years ago, back at Shiz, with that stupid lion cub…

_Not that girl, Elphie…not that girl, remember, remember…!_

"Fiyero," I blurted, my voice a trembling wisp of a sound. "Fiyero, don't – don't -"

"Don't what, Elphie?" he whispered, a trace of a smile to his tone; his voice caressed my silly nickname, wrapping round it softly, singing it. "Tell me what."

_Not that girl…_

"We…have to go. Get out of here. We have to get out of the Wizard's palace," I blabbered, knowing I should look away from those ridiculously blue, _blue_ eyes and prepare for this flight properly, but unable to move an inch. "Need to get away, and then…we won't have to worry…being caught, I mean."

I blinked hard. My hands flexed round his. The resulting electricity was incredible.

"…we need to get the window open," I managed, brilliantly. Fiyero was truly smiling now, wide and almost smug. _Hm. _I wondered with an unpleasant twist of humiliation whether he could feel my heart pounding its way to a hundred miles an hour against his chest; _we were so close_…

"Get the window open. Ok. I can do that."

Tentatively, he extracted one of his hands from what I realised had become a vice-like grip – and reached up, never taking his eyes from mine, to the window behind me. _Oz, I just didn't want to look away from him, not even for a second._

Vaguely, I heard a click, followed by creak, followed by a surprisingly chilly breeze. It gusted in behind me ruffled my hair upwards around my face in a crazy black halo for a few moments – before Fiyero's other hand caught hold of it, and stroked it back into place. The most absurd little shiver of pleasure rippled down my spine. _Not that girl, Elphaba –_

_- oh shut up, _I groaned mentally at the voice in my head. _Not that girl, I know, not that girl, just let me have a minute, please, just a few more minutes…_

I reached behind me to lift Broomstick – who had been quivering impatiently ever since sensing the window's opening – up onto the sill, and used it to lever myself up backwards onto him.

"You'll be riding behind me," I murmured to Fiyero, still half-dazed, shifting into a half-crouch and swinging one leg over the battered strip of wood. I held out a hand, a pang of desire for his touch running through me. He took it, gaze still locked with mine – and pulled himself up to perch beside me on the sill, the wind tousling his hair and making him blink.

We gazed steadily at each other for a few immeasurable moments.

"I'll be right behind you," he breathed with another thought-scrambling smile.

"I know," I murmured dryly, grinning – and he grinned back.

I blinked hard then, trying to clear my head as he clambered to perch on Broomstick behind me, who shifted a little at the extra weight but didn't make any more of a protest. Then I shook myself very, very hard.

_Not that girl, _moaned the voice in my head…

…but for the first time in Oz-knew how many years…I just wasn't really listening to it. Now, I had Broomstick to fly. And one more person to worry about, perched precariously on my only means of transport behind me.

But the words were easy; the magic like sister to me now, simple as every other crazy thing I'd learned from all I'd thrown myself into these past years. I told Fiyero to take my waist, not let go, and not, under any circumstances, make _a single sound_ – then pushed backwards off the sill and out of the window.

Fiyero let out a yelping half-scream – _honestly_ – burying his face in my hair, and clutched my waist with an intensity that did dangerous things to my concentration…

…but…thank Oz…stayed silent after that.

Together, we began our journey over the trees and rooftops of the Emerald City.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much to everyone for the lovely reviews!**

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Flying with two people was – _thank Oz_ – much less difficult than I'd thought it would be. Poor Broomstick struggled a little to begin with; creaking and snapping a few of his chocolate-brown twigs in vague protest as we flew smooth and – mostly – silently over the dim green roofs of the Emerald City, and out over the plains and forests of the land that lay beyond.

"I'm sorry," I murmured to him under my breath as he twisted and bristled underneath me – careful not to let Fiyero hear the insaneness I'd developed over the years of talking to Broomstick. "I'm sorry, really I am – look, we won't go far, just let's get us out of the city, all right…?"

Fiyero, meanwhile, stayed ridged as a statue carved from stone behind me for the whole flight. Had I not been able to feel – feel so wonderfully strongly – the iron grip he still had on my waist, I would have worried about him. After all, not everyone took to flying as quickly as I had.

I smiled at the thought; remembering happily those first few days of pure freedom, of flight, of open skies and wind whipping in your face and birds flocking around you and the sun beating down caramel-streaks from above…of course, I had revelled in all that as a law-breaking criminal, yes – but still, so wonderfully, blissfully free from everything and everyone of my past life. Flying had been like nothing on earth…and it had taken less than a minute for me to realise how much I loved it.

But Fiyero, disappointingly, didn't seem to be having quite such a wonderful time as I had on my first flight.

He never spoke a word, even as we left the Emerald City far behind us as a tiny green speck on the horizon – the ground beneath now carpeted with a new green; the green of forest, of endless trees and bushes and woods, uninhabited by anyone – except of course, me, when circumstances had led me there.

When poor Broomstick began to creak in angry protest once again, I turned my face to the side to murmur over my shoulder to Fiyero.

"Have a look behind us to see whether anyone's following, would you…you're blocking my…view…"

I trailed off, lost in the intensity of his gaze, staring stupidly at him for an immeasurable amount of time – before Broom interrupted us with another loud, pointed bristle of his twigs, and dipped alarmingly. Fiyero let out a yelp – _for Oz's sake, such a baby! –_ his hands clutching my waist impossibly tighter as I struggled to help my wooden friend to steady – but his meaning was clear. He couldn't carry on for any longer. Whether someone had managed to follow us or not – and I highly doubted it – if I didn't bring us in to land somewhere soon, I wouldn't put it past him, even after all these years, to resort to drastic measures. Far too drastic to be risked.

I squinted at the dark woods still speeding along beneath us, and then turned to murmur to Fiyero again; careful not to let my gaze get caught up in his.

"I'm going to bring us into land – poor Broom really can't carry on like this much longer."

He didn't reply. Just gazed at me with the same, frightening intensity that he still gripped my waist with – and then nodded.

"You all right back there?" I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady and my eyes focussed – _ugh, he was impossible, did he really need to grip my waist _quite _so tightly…?_

A smile twitched his lips again at my question His hands flexed around my waist – causing my treacherous stomach to flip all over again, of course.

"Never better," he replied quietly, that half-smile still playing round his lips – and leant forward slightly to rest his chin on my shoulder. I suppressed a delighted shiver – determined to keep my head this time. _Ugh, _how I hated it. Loved it. Hated it.

Hated this ridiculous, unfailing control he seemed to have acquired over every part of my body…

Loved it more every second.

_Not that girl, remember, Elphie…_

I shook my head angrily against the voice, pretending to myself that I couldn't hear it and turned determinedly back to gaze over the handle of my broom – beginning to scout for a gap in the trees, or a possible clearing. A decent enough area to land in without causing trouble, being seen, and wild enough that no one would think to ever look for us…

* * *

Carefully, as slowly as I could manage, I lowered Broomstick to fly over the very top of the forest below, my toes skimming the leaves of the tallest trees – scouting for a gap that could serve as a possible landing spot. Fiyero stiffened visibly in his seat, his face pressing against my shoulder in obvious fear. I restrained from rolling my eyes with extreme difficulty – _honestly, he really was making the most ridiculous fuss, it couldn't be all _that _bad…_

"Hold tight," I murmured as a gap in the trees just ahead of us decided for me where my broom was destined to land – and then wished I hadn't. Fiyero's grip – one hand now slipped round against my stomach to hold me back tight against his chest – was becoming more and more distracting…and more worryingly pleasurable, with every passing minute.

_Not…that…girl…_

My landing, once I'd managed to edge Broomstick between the branches of the forest and down into the small clearing, was easily one of the worst I'd ever done – it was _hard _with two people. The weight was unbalanced, Broom still in an unsurprisingly temperamental mood – and Fiyero's trembling form perched wobbling and insecure behind me didn't help matters.

Broomstick swooped to a sudden stop with his own abruptly added force – I supposed it was my poor friend's way of punishing me for forcing him through such a difficult journey – causing me to stumble, and Fiyero to half-collapse on top of me for the second time that evening, as his unsteady feet hit the ground. By now, I was so used to flying the long distances from place to place that the dizzy light-headedness and instability caused by the solid ground beneath your feet once more hardly affected me – but it was Fiyero's first time, and he was everything _but _steady.

"_Careful,_" I hissed over my shoulder to him, as Broom jerked and wriggled to get himself out from underneath us both with furious vigour. "Open your eyes, get your face away from my shoulder for starters, then – _ouch -!_"

My wooden friend had given a final, violent _jolt_ – knocking both of us off our feet, and allowing him to fly smoothly over to the nearest tree, and flop down against it, the twigs rising and falling slightly as though panting. I stumbled backwards from the jerk, colliding with Fiyero. Next thing I knew, we were both falling – and then hitting, with similar gasps, the hard, cold forest ground.

I scrambled up, brushing leaves from my dress, turning angrily to face my wooden friend, now hopping away towards the shadow of a much farther away tree, his branches still bristling.

"That's _enough!_" I hissed furiously, striding over towards the panting object, and jerking a finger behind me towards Fiyero. "Look what you did! For Oz's sake, take out your melodramatics on me, if you must, but _he _hasnever flown before! It's not his fault he's so unsteady to fly with!"

My wooden friend stood straight and defiant facing me for a second, then flopped to the ground and went utterly limp – making a point.

"_Yes_," I glowered. "You are _tired_, I know – believe me, so am I! It's no easy task flying a broom as old and temperamental as you!"

Broom didn't make any further retort – just pulled himself up, turned away, and flopped against the tree again. Sulking.

I sighed in exasperation, but decided to leave him to it.

A low groan sounded from behind me. I turned to see Fiyero struggling up from the ground, bleary eyed and swaying from side to side as he attempted to stand straight again – _honestly, such a lumbering idiot, was it really that hard to stand straight for just two seconds without falling over? _Despite my exasperated thoughts, I moved across the clearing to help him, arms outstretched.

"Here," I began, reaching towards his unsteady form – but regretting it almost instantly. Fiyero stumbled – probably some stray root from a tree displeased at a member of the Gale Force present in their forest – and toppled once again, his arms flailing towards me for support. I caught him as he fell, planting my feet so I wouldn't crumple under his weight, one hand fastening round his back, the other bracing his shoulder – whilst his arms clutched at me. Heat seemed to flow from his hands straight to my cheeks as one grasped my shoulder, the other my waist – his whole body pressing against mine in an impossibly pleasant way as he struggled to stay standing.

"Sweet Oz," he gasped, still panting fit to burst – _for Oz's sake, he hadn't even been the one to _fly _Broomstick –_ his warm breath against my face. "Sweet _Oz…_how can you bare it, all these years riding that awful thing -?"

He gestured to Broomstick, who gave an indignant creak, and hopped farther away behind another tree. Fiyero chuckled under his breath, swaying on the spot, glancing downwards to grin at me again…

…we stared wordlessly into each other's faces, suddenly so close to each other, for a few immeasurable moments.

_Not that girl, not that girl not that girl…!_

– I shook my head hard, fast, trying to clear it; forcing myself not to even begin to consider the fact that we were, of course, now more alone than I had ever hoped it was possible to be in a deserted, moonlit clearing, more alone than I'd been with anyone, anyone since that cursed day with the Lion cub…

I quickly let go of him, pushing both the treacherous thought and his hands away…but his arms tightened around me before I could move.

Tightened…a great deal.

My eyes moved very slowly up to meet his expressionless gaze.

"Fiyero," I murmured, quietly, heart pounding much too loudly all of a sudden. "I think…that you can stand by yourself, now."

He didn't reply. Just curled his grip tighter; one hand sliding up my back – _oh sweet Oz – _and making me shudder with further, terrible pleasure, the other reaching up to his shoulder where one of my arms still rested. His hand curled around mine.

"No," he said softly, but with absolute conviction.

My eyes narrowed, an automatic reaction to his defiance – though my heart was pounding. Nobody had defied me so blatantly like that in years. Nobody.

Nobody _dared…_

"You are fine to stand by yourself," I murmured, low and dangerous now. "Let go of me. Let _go _of me, _Captain._"

His smile was unbearably gentle. "No."

The tone wasn't angry, or even defiant. It was soft as a whisper – a sound that sent shivers rippling down my spine, like trickles of warm water…

_Oz, how did he do it, how did he do it, how did he do it…?_

"Let _go _of me," I half-hissed under my breath, a note of real anger – and fear – entering my voice for the first time, but Fiyero only shook his head slowly, almost pityingly, from side to side, and bent ever so slightly towards me – _oh sweet Oz –_ so close I wanted to scream, to attack, to beat him away from me…to melt into his coiled arms…

A smile twitched his lips again, as he watched my cheeks flush darker and darker ruby at that particular thought.

"I lost you once, Elphaba," he whispered, his breath mingling with mine – _sweet Oz, sweet Oz, sweet Oz…_ "And then again…so many, many times over. I'm not losing you again. I've finally caught the wicked witch…"

He trailed off, grinning. "Well, ok, I guess _she's_ caught me. Now there's no way you're getting rid of me that easily. I will not lose you again, Elphaba. Not ever, ever again."

My heart skipped a beat – _what did he mean, what was this, what was he even talking about…?_

He couldn't mean…he wasn't saying…

…could he…?

No. _No_, I'd been here, done this, hoped, wished, wounded – that was all in the past now. I knew better, now. Better than to hope. To even consider for a second…that possibility…

_Not that girl…_

I looked away quickly, gazing at the dark earth beneath us with renewed determination – refusing to meet his gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I muttered – failing dismally at my attempt to sound sharp and or in any way like my usual self. Fiyero chuckled, the sound like chiming bells; low and deep and so beautiful.

"Neither do I, much," he replied quietly, wonderingly – but his voice was still dark, fervent, as serious as ever. _Unnaturally_ serious.

Sweet Oz, what had being captain of the guard done to him? Where was the confident, carefree, thick-headed Winkie prince I had known – or thought I had known – back at Shiz…?

I peered cautiously up at his face from under my eyelashes.

"What happened to Mr. Dancing Through Life?" I asked sarcastically, though my heart was still fluttering in the most ridiculous way. Fiyero gazed blankly at me for a moment.

"Who?"

_Thick as ever. _Clearly, that part of him hadn't changed in the slightest.

"You know," I said, rolling my eyes. "Your _life motto_." The words came out a sneer.

Comprehension dawned slowly in Fiyero's eyes – then widened in horror.

"Sheesh, Elphaba, you still remember _that -?_"

"And why wouldn'tI remember it?" I interrupted, instantly angry. "Last time I saw you, that was all you were! Or rather, all you _weren't. _You didn't care. You never cared. Or you pretended you didn't. You were nothing. Nothing."

I looked away again, cheeks flaming – I'd said too much, far too much.

_Stupid, perfect, pampered, brainless Winkie prince…_

But he hadn't been nothing. He had never been _nothing_…well, perhaps just a little at the beginning, where several piles of books and thoroughly incompetent driver were involved. My heart sank at that thought – what a fool I had made of myself, what a horrible first impression he must have got; a gangly, bespectacled artichoke covered in mud from her fall with books cascading out of her arms, insulting him left, right and centre…

_Oz, my cheeks were practically on fire just at the thought…_

"What?" Fiyero was murmuring with another grin; an oddly smug, almost hopeful expression. His fingers flexed a little tighter, a little warmer around my waist.

"Nothing, it's nothing…nothing…" I started to say, but my voice trailed off into exactly that as the other of Fiyero's hands slid up my neck, the fingers reaching up to hold the back of my head, to cup my cheeks, draw my face towards his…

His smile was gentle again – and indescribably beautiful.

"Fiyero," I began, my voice faint, trembling, hardly there. "Fiyero…what…what are you doing…"

"_Nothing_, Elphaba," he breathed, soft as a whisper, his breath dancing across my lips; and his tone ridden with amusement as he repeated my word, and then…

…and then…

"…nothing…"

…and _then…_

I tried, only half-consciously, to draw away; leaning back from him as he leant suddenly, surprisingly swiftly towards me, my chest tilting to almost a right angle, back bending like a dancer,_ not that girl _screaming in my head, the voice shrieking over and over like a stuck record…but it was no use. I just wasn't listening anymore.

And my body wouldn't obey my thoughts. I was limp in his arms; my hands weak and useless by my sides, heart frozen to a standstill, trembling with feelings I couldn't name…

My every ounce of common sense, every half-way logical part of me, my _not that girl_ shrieked no, no, _no…_

But every other part of me moaned yes, yes, _yes…_

And then Fiyero's arms drew me up to press my body tight against his – and his lips captured mine.

And I told _not that girl _to shut up.

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**Reviews are better than a thousand kisses from Fiyero...! **

**...well, ok, maybe not quite. But still, REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Merry Lurinemas, everyone! Bookverse-fans? Anyone...?**

**Sorry to all of you out there expecting a full-on love scene straight away – you're gonna have to be patient! We have to get through the angst, first…I'm warning you now, much as I love sexy-evil Elphaba's, mine is kinda more moralistic. As I said before, I'm attempting to be as original as possible, so…deal with it. Hehe. **

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_Sweet and merciful Oz…_

I didn't think. I didn't plan. My mind creaked to a standstill; my arms, raised to shove the man, prince, the _Captain of the Gale Force _away from me, fell uselessly to my sides…and I didn't care.

_I didn't care_.

There was a slow, blissful slide into nothingness; nothing to plan, nothing to think, just everything, everything to _feel_, then…

It was the oddest sensation. The strangest, alien feelings, the touch, the taste, the nudging little movements…the warmth…the pleasure…

Fiyero's lips were softand fluid as silk against mine; gentle, moist, and sweet, unlike anything I'd ever tasted in my life before. I didn't even realise what I was doing as my arms took on minds of their own and reached up, wound themselves round his neck, twisting softly through the strands of brown hair, mouth pressing back hesitantly against his…

I felt him smile against my lips.

A tiny breath of a sound, something like a moan, broke free from me despite my attempts to rein it in as we kissed slowly, deeply, savouring every second of the new sensation; he tasted like honey, like chocolate, like warm sugar, like every sweet delicacy I'd ever had in my life; safe and comforting, stolen, wrong, yet so _right_…

_Oh Oz, Oz, Oz…_

For the shortest second, I panicked as his kisses changed to move in warm, probing, open-mouthed ways I had absolutely no knowledge of whatsoever. I didn't know how to do this, I didn't know the right way to go about it – I wasn't experienced, like he was, nor was I knowing and expectant like someone else I had known long ago, I didn't know _how…_

…but then he _showed _me how…

_Oh sweet and merciful Oz…_

The world around me, already frozen to a standstill, tilted at the oddest of angles. Our mouths met eagerly, again and again, hungry now – _I wanted more, more, more of him, more…_

The minutes passed unnoticed, and somehow, we were suddenly both on the cold forest ground; my knees buckled underneath me as his arms fought to press me tighter against him, my body flush up against his – one of his hands caught in my filthy, leaf-tangled hair, curling and flexing, gathering it up, then letting it fall again, lips crushing mine…

_Oz, it was so much easier on the ground like this…_

His lips gasped my name, whispered sweet nothings between fast, bruising kisses as not only my arms but legs too wound tighter and tighter around him – _more, more, more, I wanted more…_

"Elphaba," he was still gasping, hands clutching at me. "Elphaba…"

_More… _

"Elphaba…"

_This isn't happening, _I reminded myself vaguely, only half-registering the knowledge as Fiyero's hands slid past my waist, my hips, my thighs…

_Oh sweet, sweet Oz, sweet Oz…_

Fiyero's chuckle danced against my mouth.

"Maybe you're right," he whispered quietly between more swift, greedy kisses – and I wondered wildly for a moment if I'd spoken out loud. His lips sought my neck; attacking the skin there for a few seconds whilst I squirmed underneath him.

"Maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe we both are. I don't care. I just hope this dream lasts a long, long time…"

"We'll _make _it," I hissed, crushing my lips over his, his quiet moan making me smile with terrible, secret delight…

"Elphaba," he gasped again, sliding briefly downwards to press his lips to the skin of my throat…and his hands were suddenly at the collar of my dress, and lower, scrabbling for buttons. "Elphaba…_Elphaba_…"

I didn't give him time to finish. My body felt so strange, alien, hardly mine anymore, warm all over, _burning_ – more, _more, _I wanted to moan to him, my arms mirroring his, sliding down his chest to hook round the first top button of his cursed green-and-gold Gale Force jacket before I even realised what I was doing – I wanted it _off_ him, awayfrom him, that _vile_ uniform of the wizard's own make…

"_Elphie…_" he gasped, louder than ever, as my fingers tore at his coat buttons in desperation to get it off him. "_Elphie…_"

"Don't you _dare_," I hissed, smothering another kiss over his swollen lips. "Don't you dare call me that, don't you _dare_ let me…let me think…remember…Glinda…"

Glinda…

_Glinda…_

"Elphie…"

…his hand clutched in my tangled hair…

"_Elphaba…_"

…the hand with the ring…

"Elphie…"

_Engagement _ring_…_

"Elphaba…"

_Engagement party…_

"Elphaba…"

_No…_

"I love y –"

"_NO!_"

I didn't even realise I had screamed the words out loud – till Fiyero pulled back as suddenly as he had dived in, his bliss-filled face dissolving into panic as he gazed down at me.

"_Elphaba -?_"

"_No!_" I cried again in anguish, my voice ringing round the clearing, stomach contorting with horror; oh _cursed Oz,_ what was I _doing_, what had I _done, _done with this man, this beautiful, irresistible prince; this fiancé, this engaged, _engaged _man…!

Fiyero's Gale Force coat was hanging half off his shoulder, my arms and legs both wrapped tight around him, whilst his hands lay across the chest and collar of my dress; paused in their eager search to find the none-existent buttons and return the pleasure I had given him, give me back what I wanted, what I hated, what I couldn't _bare_…

"_No,_" I choked, half-collapsing backwards onto the forest ground in my attempt to untangle myself from him. "No, no, no,_ no…_"

"Elphaba…?"

"_No!_" my voice cried again, slapping away the arms that reached out to me and stumbling up from my crouch, cursed tears springing to my eyes as Fiyero scrambled up and reached once again towards me. I shook my head furiously, stumbling away, tripping and almost falling in my hurry to get away from him, to get away, _had to get away…_

"_Don't touch me!_" my voice almost shrieked, spiralling out of control as he made an attempt to reach for me. "_Don't_…I can't_…_we _can't_…!"

"Elphaba…" he breathed his voice almost as unsteady as mine, his arms still half-raised to catch me, as he paced slowly closer. "Elphaba, please, please, tell me what's wrong…"

"We _can't_…can't…._not that girl,_" I choked, the salt water becoming too much for my eyes to bare. Tears spilled over and streamed down my cheeks as I reached behind me for a tree to support my teetering figure –quickly soaking my cheeks, _Oz-damned tears…_"Not that girl, not mine to have, _never _mine…_never _that girl…"

"Elphaba, what, who, what are you talking about -!"

"_Glinda, _you _bastard_," I sobbed, regretting the awful word the instant I'd spoken it, hands clutching at my own hair, wanting to tear, rip, hurt, _hurt_. "_Glinda,_ that's who…that's her, that girl, always that girl…engaged…_engaged_…"

I couldn't go on. I hardly knew what I was saying anymore, gabbling and choking incoherently as comprehension dawned slowly, slowly, along with understanding in Fiyero's blue eyes.

"_Engaged,_" I choked again, voice thick with tears, breaking over the word. "_Engaged…_didn't know what I was doing…what have I done…oh merciful Oz, _what have I done_ …"

The forest tilted at the oddest angle. I let the world spin; let my knees give way, my legs buckle, I _didn't care…_I crumpled to the damp ground with arms outstretched to brace myself; begging any God that would listen to let the pain go, let the agony of the guilt and self-loathing let me loose…

But it didn't go. It just got worse – impossibly worse, as soft, warm arms, gentle and loving and all too devastatingly familiar, curled around my shaking body, and drew my down towards the man they belonged to. I tried to hiss through my tears.

"Let me go, _Captain…!_"

"Elphie…"

I shoved feebly at his half-bare chest, my vision blurred by tears, magic coiling and twisting in little ropes around my fingers as I prepared to fight. "Let me _go_…!"

"Elphie…"

"Let me _go_…"

"_Elphaba_…"

"I hate you…"

He only held me tighter.

"I _loathe _you, loathe you, always loathed you…_not that girl_…"

_Not that girl…_

But despite that…

"_Fiyero…"_

…despite _everything…_

"…_Oz-damnit, Fiyero…"_

Against all the odds…

"…_Oz-damnit, I love you…_"

…he froze.

I choked back another sob of utter fury – I wanted to scream away the words, shriek in denial of them…!

…but I also wanted to pour them out again and again and again to him till my voice was used dry…

"I l-love you…" I choked, blinking desperately to clear the tears, but the world was watery mess before my eyes. "I won't…I _can't_…I _mustn't, _but…_Oz-damnit, I love you, Fiyero_…"

His breathing was suddenly ragged; soft and uneven as he bent towards me, his eyes burning with emotion.

"Don't," I whispered, pressing my own tight shut – _wouldn't look at him, couldn't look at him. _"Don't look at me like that, like you could _love_...we_ can't…_"

"Elphaba_…_"

"Let me go, _Captain_…"

"_No,_" he said quietly, but with a new note of cold, absolute determination this time. "_No_. I told you, it's taken me over two years – I am _not_ letting you run now, Elphaba Thropp."

I struggled futilely, shaking my head at the name I hadn't heard in so many years now – _Elphaba Thropp was long dead and gone now, gone, gone forever_ _– _my hands scratching his arms away…but it was no use.

"You _left _her," I choked out, gazing furiously at the source of my pain with all the hatred I could muster. He looked away; terrible shame filling his face. "You left your fiancé– you left _Glinda, _my Glinda,all alone up there, how _could _you…?"

"Elphaba –"

"_Why?_" I sobbed, my hands clutching at his hair to make him look at me. "_Why, _Fiyero, _why…?_"

He didn't give me time to finish. Before I knew what was happening, his lips were on mine again; crushing them with sweet burns, making me gasp with fresh fury and shove, pound at his chest again…

…but it was hopeless. _I _was hopeless.

I couldn't stop him – couldn't resist him. He kissed me like he were drowning man, and I the air; like I was his saviour, his angel, like he loved me, _like he loved me…_

_And Oz, I loved him…_

"You want to know why?" he panted against my lips. "I'll tell you why, Elphaba…"

"_Bastard_…"

More kisses. More unbearably sweet temptations – temptations I couldn't fight, even for a second; temptations I knew no girl had been able to resist, no girl, not me, not _her_, not _Glinda_, _oh Glinda, I'm so sorry, Glinda_,_ I can't help it, Glin, I love him, Glin, I love him, I love him …_

"I love you," he gasped out, drawing back just far enough to gaze with blazing emotion into my eyes. "I love you, Elphaba –"

"_Liar –_"

Another kiss. Another muffled protest from my direction. Another sweeping, melting sink into nothingness as my lips moulded, melted against his.

Those four, simple words, spoken so fiercely, were like needles against my heart. A small stab for every lie; every pretence he tried to feed me between kisses I couldn't fight, even for a second…

…because it _was _all a pretence, of course. It had to be. I couldn't allow myself to consider even for a second that it could be anything else…

"…_I love you, Elphaba…_"

Lies. All lies.

Such terrible, terrible lies.

But lies he refused to stop telling.

I loved him. I couldn't deny it anymore, couldn't shut it away, couldn't hide it…even from myself. I loved him.

I loved Fiyero Tiggular, Captain of the Gale Force, more than my own life. More than anything. More than everything.

More than Glinda.

One who should have been my most feared enemy…my most hated pursuer…now the exact opposite. A man I knew, deep down, I would do anything for. Be anything for. The resistance, the Animals, all I had been fighting for so many years now…I knew I would abandon it all in an instant, to be with him. I would join the Wizard, the _wizard, _that foul, loathsome, evil, manipulating horror of a man…for Fiyero. I would do anything. Be anything.

Anything…for him.

The realisation terrified me.

I'd stolen my best friend's fiancé. My _only _friend's fiancé.

I was sick. I was twisted. I was evil.

I was wicked as wicked could be.

I was helplessly, undeniably, and utterly irreversibly in love.

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	4. Chapter 4

**I'VE BEEN NOMINATED FOR THE 'FOURTH ANNUAL WICKED AWARDS' IN THE CATEGORY 'BEST ONESHOT'!**

**Thank you so, so much everyone for nominating me! Now, if you'll just click the link below, or search 'fourth annual wicked awards', follow the instructions in chapter 3, and vote for me, that would be ozsome. To read the oneshot nominated, just head over to my profile page, and click the story 'Terrible Beauty'. It's a Fiyeraba :D**

**Thank you again!**

**Link to Fourth Annual Wicked Awards (chapter 3, for voting!): .net/s/6474729/3/The_Fourth_Annual_Wicked_Awards**

**

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**Neither of us spoke for several minutes – minutes crammed tight with more succulent, stolen kisses – before we finally, slowly, drew apart.

My face felt hot. Too hot. Lips swollen, cheeks flaming…not just from that strange, frightening pleasure I taken from the kisses. From guilt that was eating me away from the inside. From self-hatred that made me want to scream. From a sudden, terrifying desire to hurt, to harm myself; suffer how I should be suffering for what I'd done. What I was doing.

And, now, what should be done.

My insides writhed into knots. Of course I _knew_ what should be done, what _should _happen, now; I needed to get him away, needed to fly him straight back to the wizard's palace as fast as Broomstick would carry us, throw him into the arms of his fiancé, force him into this engagement he was running so stupidly from, drag him up the isle of the church if need be, bind him to the woman he had pledged himself to forever, forever, forever…

_Forever…_

The thought was unbearable. _No, _every part of me moaned, _no, oh Oz, please, no…_the very idea drove knives through my heart, made me want to shriek with pain, with denial, with refusal…

Most of all…made me want to gather all my power – every precious, carefully nurtured little scrap of it – and coil the man in front of me tight into every enchantment I knew, every spell that could imprison him here, keep him for myself, mine, _mine, _only mine, forever and ever and ever…

How tempting a thought that was. How terribly, wickedly tempting. How dangerous.

And how wrong.

No. I couldn't do that, I couldn't. I wouldn't.

But to take him back…back into Glinda's arms…

Oh Oz, what was I going to do…?

I took a slow, deep, shuddering breath; closing my eyes.

"Elphaba?"

My name. Spoken in his gentle voice, so deep and velvet smooth, the sound was more beautiful than I could ever have imagined my name being. _Elphaba. _The odd, foreign sounding name had never bothered me…after all, what part of me wasn't odd, as alien as it was possible to be for my own country…?

"Elphaba?"

I took another breath – then let my eyes drift open to meet his; those dazzling, diamond bright eyes, the colour of crushed sapphires…wide with anxiety as they gazed into mine.

"Elphaba…"

_The way he spoke my name…_

His hands reached and cupped my face, so tenderly, his touch as light and tentative as feathers, as though I were made of spun glass as opposed to filthy slime-green flesh. I couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched me like that.

"Listen, Elphaba," Fiyero's soft voice murmured. "Listen, I…"

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as though bracing himself.

"Glinda and I…we…she…_I…_never, _never_ loved Glinda, Elphaba."

Silence. I waited – for a punch line, a surprise ending, a twist to the statement? I had no idea. I looked steadily at him for a moment…then spoke a word I almost never, ever spoke alone in one sentence and with that note of dumb question.

"What?"

Very, very gently, Fiyero's hands moved to stroke back the stranding of filthy, knotted hair hanging down on both sides of my face.

"I never, never loved her. Not at Shiz, not now. Not back when I was Mr. Dancing Through Life, the famous playboy prince, a brainless idiot…or a rather pathetic excuse for a Gale Force captain. Not ever. Ever. _Ever_."

He bent to press a burning, searing kiss to my lips.

"I'm in love with _you_, Elphaba. Elphaba…Elphaba, I love you. _I love you_."

My heart stopped. Ground to a halt, just like it had the first time he'd said the words, gasped them between our heated kisses just a few minutes ago. I couldn't speak; could only stare at him as he shook his head hopelessly, wordlessly, his eyes begging me to understand – and his hands cupped my face again, holding it tight, now, his fingers cool and smooth against my skin.

"When you left us, left me, all those years ago…oh Elphie, that day with the lion cub, when you caught my hand, when you touched my cheek…"

"You flinched away from me like every other student would flinch at the mere mention of me touching them," I heard my voice snap out, finally finding itself again. "You thought all those Oz-damned rumours Avaric spread about my _condition _being contagious might be true, you fled before I could speak more than two words to you, you wouldn't speak to me for weeks afterwards, not till I left that day on the train station -!"

"_Elphaba,_" he sighed. "Your skin had nothing to do with it, nothing whatsoever, I swear to you –"

"Then _why?_" I hissed, inches from him. "_Why _did you run?"

He sighed again – his eyes leaving mine to rake the forest floor beside us, now full of suppressed guilt.

"I guess for the same reasons you tried to run just a few minutes ago," he murmured, almost to himself. "After that day, after that lion cub, I started to…well…I started think_._ Probably for the first time in my life. Think about…Oz, Elphaba, so many things. About the animal bans. About your take on it all, your defiance, your suspicion…all the reasoning behind your views. About me and Glin. About Glin herself…and about you…always you…"

I was shaking my head again – I couldn't listen to this, couldn't hear it, couldn't, because it was impossible, impossible, and even if it was, this was sick, twisted, _wrong_ –_!_

"- Elphaba, you knowhow it's always been with Glinda – you worried at Shiz, I know you did, worried because you knew, you _told _meyou knew it wouldn't last, and you were scared for her. You knew how…devoted she was to me –"

"- and that has _never _changed–"

"- but it has for _me!_" he burst out, hands clutching at my face. "Don't you see, Elphaba, you were right, you were always right, it wouldn'tlast, it _didn't _last – for Glin, yes, just like you worried, but for me…she was no more than any of the others. Those hundreds of others, all the hearts I broke, all the scandalous one-night-stands, those things I never thought of twice or questioned till Glinda -!"

"She _was_ more to you than the others!" I almost spat, battling away the hope which was coiling pathetically, uselessly inside me, but I wouldn't let it, _wouldn't let it... _"You cared enough for her to stay by her side for all those years, right up until tonight, didn't you? Now explain thatto me, _Captain_."

He sighed again, sadly this time. "Elphaba, can't you work that out for yourself? Yes, you're right, of course, I…care for her. I'm fond of her. That's part of the reason why I'm wearing this Oz-damned ring, even now – you didn't see her that day after the Emerald City when she came tumbling out of that train carriage into my arms, sobbing her heart out, begging me to help her, insisting that we had to find you, that she'd betrayed you, that she'd been too much of a coward to do what you'd done – and _I _was a coward, Elphie, I was too, I couldn't do it, I couldn't break up with her then and there like I'd planned, not when she was in such a state –"

"You could have," I hissed, clenching my fists round the hem of my skirt. "You could have broken it up, if you were that desperate to, if you'd had the courage -!"

"You're right," he said. "I should have, but I didn't and for that…for that I paid dearly. When Glinda got offered the position by Morrible to work at the palace…Elphie, you've got to understand, she didn't even _tell_ me at first. She secured positions for both of us – I didn't even have a say in the matter. She told me days before we were set to leave, and oh Elphaba, she was so happy, the first happiness I'd seen on her in so long, and…I couldn't do it. I couldn't break it off. I couldn't tell her the truth, not even then...

"And then the position for with the guard came up, with the Gale Force, and it seemed so perfect – I could hunt for you, really track you down like I'd been planning to do the instant I got out of Shiz, only with so much more ease and the rank and resources I would need all at my fingertips! And all those years I spent, hunting, hoping…dreaming of you, of the day I'd find you…and then…"

And his face changed then; melted so beautifully, sank into tenderness, into wonder, and his hands shook as he wound them into my curtains of hair, gliding his fingers through the locks, like they were spun silk instead of grime and tangles.

"Then _you_ showed up, the day Glinda announced to me we'd be getting _married _of all things, just as soon as I would agree to a date, and you were there, beside the Wizard's throne, and your face…and it was you or Glinda…you or Glinda…and oh Elphaba, there was just no competition…"

"That wasn't _love!_" I almost snarled, hands twisting together; writhing green snakes. "You wanted to get out, Fiyero, to get free of it, of Glinda's grasp, of the wizard's reign, but nothing more, I had nothing to do with it -!"

He didn't let me finish – just dived for my lips again, kissing hard and fast, till I was breathless from it –

"- _no,_" I hissed, when he let me go. "I _can't,_ we can't –!"

I was frantic, now, desperate, panic seizing my body as I remembered things I knew I shouldn't; how Fiyero had never once shot at me whilst hunting with the Gale Force, how he'd ordered them to never kill, always capture, never shoot with bullets, only sleeping-darts, how he'd led them so many times in the opposite direction of where he must have known I was, of those poppies he'd given me so many years ago, of Glinda's complaints of how distant he was from her after that Lion cub day…

…_oh sweet Oz…_

"It's not true," I heard myself saying, my lips moving of their own accord. "It's not true, Fiyero, not true, you and me…me…_me, _Fiyero, look at me!"

"You're beautiful –"

"_Look _at me, Fiyero!" I hissed, shaking his shoulders as though willing him to see what was truth rather than whatever delusion he'd made up for himself, must have done, to say such a thing… "_Really_ look at me, look, see this hideous, this vile, this disgusting, _wretched_ stainof a colour, look at it, look at me…!"

"I can't see it," he stated plainly. "I can't see the hideous, the vile, the disgusting. I see _you,_ Elphaba."

He bent to steal another kiss – I slapped him away, determined this time, but his hands caught my wrists, holding them tight…and his lips were on mine again, smouldering with kisses, kisses my lips wanted to return so badly, _so badly_…

His mouth was gentler, this time, tender…little ghosts of touches…

My eyes fluttered closed in the moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

Then…

Then Fiyero reached up with one hand, one pale, ever-familiar hand…and lightly, so light it was barely the brush of a feather…began to trace the features of my face.

"I see _you, _Elphaba," he whispered, his voice soft and rippling velvet again. "_You. _I see all that you are, are on the _inside_, all the courage, all the wit, all those poisoness bite-backs and insults…"

His fingers traced down my pointed nose, my scratched forehead…

"…all the incomparable power, all the fiery anger, all the passion, all the fearlessness, the determination…"

And his hands stroked back my hair, traced down my cheeks…

"All the incredible bravery, the loyalty, the gentleness and kindness I've seen you keep for the Animals…for Glinda…"

…over my temples, caressing stray strands of ruined black hair into place…

"…I see all of it, Elphaba. All of it, everything that's you, everything you _are,_ and it's _you_, all I can see…when I look at you."

And his fingers moved from my hair – stroked again my cheeks, my chin, my neck…

"It's here, Elphaba, written over every part of you, and I see it, I see it _all_, every bit of it I love so much…"

And his hands stroked over my collarbone, my shoulders, arms, caught my bare hands, caressed the skin, that cursed skin, but when he was touching me…

"…and over your face, in your eyes, your hair…"

…and he was gliding his touch through tangles of midnight now…

"…your body, your hands…"

…and he wound my fingers in his…

"…your touch, Elphaba, your…your skin. Your incredible skin, like nothing there's ever been or will be; unique, incomparable, striking, magical, ethereal, other-worldly _emerald green_…"

…emerald green…

"…and that…that…"

And he stopped then, stopped and looked at me, really looked at me, for moments impossible to count.

Then…

"…and that…Elphaba Thropp…is true beauty."

* * *

I didn't speak.

I _couldn't_ speak.

I couldn't say a word.

Fiyero reached up one last time to my face, and softly stroked the skin just underneath my suddenly…undeniably…wet eyelids.

I blinked hard; my hands trembled as I shook my head slowly, _exhaustedly_, for the umpteenth time, but all conviction had gone from the movement and I was close, so close, so treacherously close…to hoping…

Fiyero's face was inches from mine again.

"Elphaba?" he murmured, barely breathing the words, his eyes so gentle, and so open and ready and begging me to speak to him, tell him, confide in him, trust him…

_Believe _him…

It was no use. Tears spilled over, trickling down my cheeks – _beautiful, beautiful, he'd called me beautiful…_

Tears streamed down my face. He kissed them away, one by one by one.

Then he bent for my lips – and this time, I let him kiss me without even one word of protest. His mouth was sweet and faint as a breath this time – not needing a response, no wanting a response…just comfort. Love.

_Love…_

"You…_can't_…love me," I heard myself murmuring, but the words were dead, robotic, an automatic reflex…

"But I do."

More kisses. And I was returning them, without even planning to; moving with the same soft, sweet little movements back against him of my own accord...

"…you're _engaged, _Fiyero…"

"I don't care."

Another kiss, warm and fluid as silk, followed by another, and another, and another…

"…I'm all _wrong_ for you…"

"You're everything I want. Everything I need. Everything _right_ for me."

Softer kisses, gentler; tender little brushes…

"…Fiyero…"

"What?"

"…I'm the _wicked witch of the west, _Fiyero…"

Deeper kisses, at that, and hungrier, hot and burning, delicious to taste.

"I'm very much aware of that."

Another kiss. Another. Another…

My voice choked.

"…I'm…_hideous_…"

"You're beautiful."

Silence.

Then…

"Tell me again."

Another kiss…

"You're beautiful."

…_beautiful, _he was calling me…beautiful…

…but there was something else…

…something more important than all the others put together…

…something…

…someone…

"…Glinda…" My lips moved round the name, moving against his in the process…

"…is neither here nor there…" _Kiss. _"…nor anything to do with this…" _Kiss. _"…neither my girlfriend nor fiancé…" _Kiss. _"…nor someone I have or ever will love…" _Kiss. _"…and she's far, far, far away, you know that, far away…" _Kiss. _"…she'll never know…"

"…never…?"

…_kiss_es…

"Never."

..._one last gentle…melting…silk-soft kiss…_

"And I love you, Elphaba."

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**Reviews are like ferrero rocher chocolates – they make me type faster, and therefore update faster, too!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Please understand, I didn't mean to pressure anyone with the whole 'vote-for-me-in-the-awards' thing last chapter; if you've got the time and incentive to vote for me, thank you, but if you haven't, or don't think I deserve the award, that's absolutely fine! I'm very humbled to be nominated at all!**

**I spent a great deal of time agonizing over how to write this scene, and in the end, I'm afraid I have opted for the thoroughly unoriginal option – a love scene. This is only my first (well, sort of second) attempt at writing one, so let me know what you think…**

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We stopped then, just for a moment. I let my eyes drift open, so I could look at him again, really look at him. Take in his every feature; his strangely small forehead, his high cheekbones, his straight nose, his locks of chocolate-brown hair my fingers ached to run through, his rippling ocean-blue eyes I couldn't look away from, his full, swollen lips mine wanted to kiss so badly…

"What are you thinking?" Fiyero murmured, and I almost, almost….thought I could hear a smile in his tone. I peeped at him from under my eyelashes.

"How wrong this is. How utterly sick and twisted and messed up. How evil. How…wicked."

And then…my lips were twitching, and the hint of a smile, just a shadow of one, crept up the edges of my mouth.

"And how…indescribably wonderful."

And he pulled me into his arms again, so I could I bury my face in his shoulder, clutch him against me, curl myself as tight as I could against his chest – _sweet Oz, what had he done to me, in just one evening, made me so weak, so helpless, clinging to him like an Oz-damned baby, so _vulnerable_, so unlike myself…_

…_so wonderful…_

"I love you," I heard my voice whisper, a little breathlessly – and again, felt a rush of that same feeling, the squirming desire to hide my face behind my hair, flee from him as fast as I could, hiss in denial of the words…and also to speak them over and over, shout them to the world, make sure all of Oz knew just how much I loved him…

"I love you," he whispered, breath butterfly-light against my ear, and I could hear the smile in his voice too; wide, almost victorious, now. "And we've been denying ourselves for too long, Elphaba, much, much too long…I don't want to pretend anymore. I don't want there to be anything else between us. It's my fault we're in this mess, my fault for everything….but I'm going to change that. Starting now. I promise you. I swear by Oz."

I wanted to answer him. Wanted to…but at the same time, didn't want to speak. Didn't want to move. Didn't want to open my eyes. Didn't want to have to think, to consider, to comprehend things, people my mind had been fighting away for so long, now…

But I had to. Sometime, somehow, I had to.

So I let go. I let the overwhelming, devastating guilt overwhelm me. I let the thoughts of Glinda swarm my mind. I let the needles stab my heart. I let the self-hatred soar high, poison every part of me, stinging and _burning_ and cutting and tearing and _ripping_ my heart to shreds….

Because after that, I meant to pack all four of those precise things into the most far away drawer in my mind, and lock it up tight as could be.

Then tonight…tonight I would love Fiyero as much as I wanted, as burningly, ragingly, desperately, endlessly as I wanted…as he wanted…for every hour that was left until morning.

And that was exactly what I did.

* * *

The knowledge that he loved me was impossible. So impossible, so ridiculous, so unbelievable – _so dangerous – _and yet…I couldn't pretend any longer.

I believed him.

To love him before had been an impossibility. Something I could never feel, something I had _forbidden_ myself to feel, to be, to want, to hope, to even consider. I had taken all those feelings, that tangled mess of anger and desire and pain and longing…and locked it away. Hidden them. Denied them. Broken them, ruined them. Never, never could he be that for me. Never could he love me. Never could I love him.

Never.

But _now_…

…now, to love Fiyero with every shattered shard of my cold, frightened heart was as easy as breathing. Effortless. Natural.

And he loved me back.

* * *

Fiyero held me against him, warm and safe, till I'd tortured myself to near-death with all the guilt and hatred I could possibly muster …

…then he started to kiss me again. And again.

And again.

And there was no holding back anymore. I let him crush my lips with kisses – let my own lips crush back in and around and over his as they so desperately wanted – let myself pull him back, hard, onto the brown and green and gold of the forest floor, of the fallen leaves, autumnal colours bright even in the dark now rapidly consuming everything in it's path as it stole through the trees.

I let myself smother my lips with his, let us kiss till I was breathless from it, till my body was warm all over again in the strangest way, till I couldn't have stopped even if I'd wanted to – till my arms, green snakes in the dark of the wood, were coiled around his neck, nails raked against his back, hands clenching fistfuls of his green-gold Gale Force jacket…

_That Oz-damned Gale Force jacket…_

We fell back on the cold ground, entwined together – and my fingers reached for the buttons of his jacket for the second time that evening, pulling them apart, one by one by one, till my hands could reach more of him. The more I wanted so badly.

Every part of him was as perfectly sculpted as marble, cream-white, supple, and smooth as silk under my touch. My many, many touches. Occasionally, I would press over a particular spot and he would moan ever-so-quietly, whisper my name, bury his face against my neck – and I would carefully memorize those spots to rake over again, and again, attack with my lips as well as my hands…see how many times I could make him groan my name in that incomparable, wonderful…delicious way. _More, _I could feel myself beginning to beg again, _more, more, I wanted more…_

But when my hands moved to reach automatically, eagerly, for the belt of his trousers – _because why should we wait, why should we hold back any longer, why should there be anything more between us? _– he stopped. His hands caught mine – ignoring my struggles, my angry hisses, my desperate attempts to reclaim his lips. I wrenched at my hands, near furious at the heat of such a moment being interrupted, but then…

…but _then_…

…then I felt _his _hands, slower and gentler than my grasping, groping ones, and larger, warmer, drift up the curve of my back to the top button of my dress –

- and everything froze.

Oh no.

No. _No_, every part of me screamed, _no, _he couldn't see it, couldn't see what no one on earth had experienced the horror of, he couldn't see _me_…see me like that, bare, unclothed, green, green, _green_ as sin, every part of me, every curve so utterly distorted, so ruined by the stain, the distortion…my distortion…

…but…

…but he'd said…

…_beautiful…_

…he'd said I was…

…_beautiful…_

… beautiful…

And his fingers slipped round the buttons and tweaked them open, one by one by one, his lips stopping all protest from me with the sweetest of kisses – till the cold night air was dancing over and around my bare back, and then torso, as he pulled the fabric so tenderly, patiently over my shoulders – and then the freezing forest earth was flat against my back, my bare arms sunk into roots of trees and feather-soft piles of brown-gold leaves, so cold I wanted to cry out.

My body was warm. So warm. The ground felt like ice against it.

But then the fabric was gone from my chest too, this time, and his lips too, so he could ease it over my hips, and down my legs, and then, finally, around the pair of ancient brown Shiz boots…

"No stockings," he velvet voice murmured, rough with something I couldn't name – and I smiled in spite of my pounding heart and trembling hands.

"No," I murmured, equally softly. "No stockings."

I caught his gaze, then, staring up at me from his midst of easing the dress over my boots; and grinned.

"_Witch_, remember, Captain. No pampered, fashion-crazed princess. Deal with it."

"Dealing…" he murmured, a low chuckle ringing through his voice, easing the remnants of the dress over my boots and away, dropping it beside me with a soft _flump. _

I reached for him, then, holding my arms out like a child reaching for its mother – and he bent over me once again, let me push him down on the earth beside me, wrap myself around him and over him, attack him with kisses…and suddenly, it wasn't only my groping hands upon him, but his upon me. Touching, caressing, kneading, his hands everywhere, all over me, in ways I couldn't even begin to have imagined, warming me more and more till the icy ground was near-painful against it…

…_sweet Oz, I was burning…_

…before I simply couldn't stop myself reaching, once again, for the belt of his trousers. He shuddered underneath me as my eager, cold fingers slid the clasp undone, fumbling to pull the belt from his trousers – till his hands covered mine, guiding much too slowly, tracing the buttons and metal hooks needed, helping me – despite my indignant protests – undo the buckles of his boots, also, slide the trousers and socks and every item besides from his body, until his clothes had joined mine on the forest floor around us.

We stopped, then, just for a moment. Long enough for Fiyero to draw back, to stroke the sweaty raven hair from my forehead, to gaze at me with emotions I had never dreamed of ever seeing upon anyone's face burning from his eyes; but a slow burn, reserved, restrained.

I stared back at him, in wonder; at this Winkie prince I had gone to _university_ with, for Oz's sake, sat by in class, watched every fellow schoolgirl swoon over, a prince of anyone's dreams; this dizzying, devastating, dazzling beauty of a man…

"Elphaba?"

My name, spoken by him. I felt a smile drift dreamily onto my face.

"Yes...Fiyero?"

His eyes held mine calmly, unblinkingly, intent with meaning, with question. I knew without needing words what he was asking.

I leant as close as I dared to him before asking; breath mingling as my mouth brushed words against his.

"This is all we could ever get," I whispered in the softest wisp of a breath; I didn't need to speak any louder. The words were for him, and him only. His eyes never left mine for a second as I spoke. "Ever. _Ever. _Odds are, we shall be burning at the stake for treachery against the wizard twenty-four hours from now. Fiyero…" His name felt so sweet, delicious even, running over my tongue to fall from my lips like that. "If tonight is all we are ever going to have together…"

And I wanted to. I _wanted_ to. To tie myself to him somehow, to have him for myself – to claim his as my own.

To pretend, however selfishly, that he was mine. Mine, and only mine. That he loved me. That he really, truly wanted me…that way.

There was no more questioning after that. Our lips crushed the others at the same moment, his arms locking around me, tight as steel braces, limbs entwined too closely to tell whose were whose – not that I cared. My hands roamed, explored his body, craving for him to do the same with me – and he did. Hungrily, now. And lower…lower than I'd ever imagined anyone, anything touching, so dangerously, torturously low…

And that was it. My eyes rolled closed; I fell into nothingness, into the deepest pit of submission, of the most intense pleasure I could ever have imagined – or couldn't have – the instant he began, and didn't surface for a long time, a very, very long time, till the pleasure reached its peak, till I could hardly stand it any longer, till I wanted to cry out for the sheer love of it…

I had become putty in his hands, I realised, somewhere along the way. A panting, moaning mess of tangled hair and warmth and sweat, writhing against the frosted forest ground – begging _him _for release, _him _for escape, _him _to finish what he'd started so effortlessly…

He had me. _Me. _

He had the wicked witch of the west. Completely. Utterly.

But for some reason I could hardly begin to understand…I didn't care.

I didn't care that I was more vulnerable than I'd ever thought I'd be able to bear being in my life. I didn't care that even now, even after all he'd said_…_this was beyond insanity. Beyond every stupid act I'd ever done.

Even now this man, this _Captain_, this renowned servant of the wizard, could still slit my throat in a single second, a single moment of this devastating pleasure. Murder me like so many had tried to, for so many years now, my blood soaking the clothes he had pulled so lovingly from my body…

I could be dead by morning, and the most terrifying part of it was, I wasn't sure I would even care.

To have _him_…just for one night…was enough.

I would welcome death with open arms in exchange for this.

* * *

There was pain, then. A stabbing burn, piercing through the pleasure like a knife – causing Fiyero to freeze to a standstill at once, despite my moans and pleas for him to continue. I angrily shushed his murmured words of anxiety and shut out the burn, pushed it away, forced myself to bear it…it passed quickly, quicker than I'd thought it would.

Then there was nothing more to keep me from him.

I loved him over, and over, and over. I screamed his name, clutched his body against me, gasped and panted and moaned and cried out all over again – kissed him till my mouth ached from it. The night moved on around us, moonlight fading into dark, black wrapping round both of us like a blanket till I could no longer make out even Fiyero eyes in the gloom. The misty air was freezing around us; piercingly, bitingly cold, clawing at my lungs, frost icing both my hair and his. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. There no reason to mind, no reason to care, to separate, to _stop_…

Because I didn't want to stop. I didn't want it to end. Didn't want to let him go. Didn't want to even think, consider that this might be all we would ever get, together, all we could ever have…ever…

…_ever…_

If that was true…we just _couldn't _stop, could we…?

Somewhere in the breaking hours of dawn, however, the bitter, freezing world around me began to spin and turn and mould in on itself, and my gasps and moans became a little less pronounced, a little more muffled with sleep, with cold, and my eyes began to drift…droop…

…and sleep took me. Claimed me as it's own like I had claimed Fiyero and he had claimed me, before I could do anything to stop it.

The last thing I remembered was my own beloved midnight cloak, warm and comforting, softly tucked around my trembling, shivering body by a familiar pair of hands…and a glittering engagement ring, slid smoothly off one of the hand's fingers, to land dirtied and ruined in the muddy earth of the forest floor…

...before I fell into dreams.


	6. Chapter 6

**Schoolwork rules my life. End of story. I'm sorry, everyone. At least I'm updating now, right?**

**I've also been having a lot of trouble with this chapter. Who knew night-after conversations would be so awkward to write? Originally, this was over 9,000 words long – I cut it down immensely! Constructive criticism is always appreciated, just leave it in a review :D oh, and I'm now officially in love with Broomstick. Sorry, Fiyero…**

**

* * *

**

I awoke very, very slowly.

The sun was up; warm, buttery gold rays beating down onto my bare back. My eyes felt heavier than they'd ever been in my life before. Like the whole world was pressing down on them. The rest of my body felt strange, too. Limp. Almost jelly-like. One particular place…faintly sore…

_Argh…_

I blinked.

The world was slanted, tilted sideways around me in the oddest of ways – I couldn't even remember where I'd fallen asleep last night. _Where was I…?_

I blinked again, and made as it to turn over – then found I couldn't, as every part of me appeared to be swaddled, wrapped tight, in layer upon layer of a bizarre array of clothing.

_What in Oz's name…?_

I stared down at myself in bewilderment. There was my cloak, for one thing, spread over me like a blanket. My dress – inside out – the skirt tucked over and under my bare feet, protecting them from the freezing, frosted forest ground around me. Then there were my – _cursed Oz – _under garments, tucked again close to my feet, along with – oh sweet and merciful Oz – _someone else's_. And then there was the pair of black trousers, clumsily folded under my head, to act as a pillow. And the shirt, and dark green jacket, trimmed with gold and emblazoned with the sign of the Gale Force, underneath me…

…covering the man I lay half-sprawled around, coiled against his side; limbs intertwined tight as possible, frost matted in his chocolate brown hair, familiar face smooth, beautiful…so beautiful_…_expressionless in sleep.

A smile so wide it was almost painful spread slowly, deliciously over my face.

No, the faint, dull soreness between my legs most definitely didn't matter. If anything, I was glad of it. It was a reminder. The key to so many memories. The proof…the only proof…that what had taken place last night was more than just a far away mush of dreams, of lips and hands and warmth and sweat and moaned names and tangled limbs and…

…_Oz, just thinking about it…_

That had been real. That had _happened. _We…_we…_me…Fiyero…this beautiful, velvet-voiced, irresistible man, this prince, this Captain of the Gale Force…

I smothered a soft cackle, at that. _Captain_. Of course. Captain of the wizard's personal guard, renowned hunter of the wicked witch, loyal servant of the Emerald City – _if only they could see him now_, I thought with another unstoppable, delighted little cackle. I felt almost giddy with glee at the thought. _That _would show them. Show them all.

Yes, if only they could see him now, see us both; the wicked witch of the west and the handsome Gale Force prince, coiled together on the forest floor, fresh from their hours of love-making, green against white…

Oh sweet Oz, it sounded so wrong. Wonderful, yes, but wrong. So messed up, so sick, twisted, evil…wicked…

_Wicked…_

There was strange new meaning to that word for me, now.

And it felt odd, too, to consider last night and know I was no longer a…a…

…ugh, I couldn't even stand to think the word. It was too much to take in, too much to comprehend. It made me feel suddenly much, much too old. A child fumbling in a woman's body. Everything gone too fast, stolen away, the deepest, darkest, most secret part of myself gone, taken – _no, _I told myself, not taken_. Given._ _Given all too willingly._

And I considered, again, who exactly I had given it all to. The man who had that particular claim to me, now. The prince. The 'captain'.

_My _Captain.

The smile stretched ridiculously wide upon my lips at that thought.

I sighed quietly, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and propped myself up on my elbows, surveying the bright morning sight around me more closely.

The crisp green clearing looked just the same as it had last night – a little more welcoming, perhaps, with the sunlight melting over it all; a carpet of thick green grass I hadn't been able to make out in the dark of the previous evening. It was also windy – very windy – the leaves whirling around me, the trees rustling restlessly, my hair rippling up behind me in the breeze. A little way off across the clearing from me sat our footwear – my sturdy old boots alongside Fiyero's shiny, polished black ones. And beyond that…

"Broomstick!" I whispered in surprise, careful not to wake Fiyero, but unable to stop myself from exclaiming – I had completely forgotten about my wooden friend. He stood half-hidden behind an oak tree, handle just peeping round – almost as though he had been there all along, spying on us. I felt a frown crease my features at the thought.

"Come here," I whispered softly to him, beckoning. "Just quietly, now, he's…Fiyero's…still asleep."

Broomstick didn't move – just bowed his handle slightly, lower than was natural, narrowing in on himself – almost like a human person would normally narrow their eyes. My frown deepened; warmth dusting my cheeks as I realised, with a jolt, that of course I was still naked. Utterly so.

_Oh._

Of course, he was just a cleaning utensil, and I'd changed in front of him Oz-knew how many times before, but _this_…this was more than a little different…

Broomstick started to tremble, shaking oddly, almost comically from top to bottom…and I was suddenly certain that if he had been able to speak, he would have been sniggering with laughter.

"Stop it!" I hissed angrily, cheeks flushing to strawberry scarlet, but he ignored me, skipping out from behind the tree to dance tauntingly over the clothes and underwear now spread around me, sticks bristling with delight.

"_Stop _it!" I hissed for the second time, scrambling away from Fiyero's side, clutching his green-gold jacket around me in a feeble attempt to keep off the cold wind, and making a grab for the stupid object's handle. "You stop it right now, you hear? Honestly, you're a _broomstick, _for Oz's sake, what would you know about – _stop _it!"

But it was no use. Of course, he had to stop, to some extent, as my lurid hands closed around his wood, forcing him into stillness – but he still trembled in my arms with suppressed laughter, bristles crackling together to create a sound uncannily like my own cackle.

"Oh, _very _funny," I muttered sarcastically. "You know, I sincerely hope you _weren't _watching last night, peeping-tom of a broomstick that you are!"

Broomstick shook himself swiftly from side to side several times, an obvious 'no' – before reaching out two long twigs from his bristles and pressing them to my ears, then his own mid-handle – the spot where he himself would have had ears, had he been human.

Then he burst into crackling laughter again.

I threw him away from me so furiously he flew halfway across the clearing before crashing to a halt a few feet from the two pairs of boots.

"Don't be_ ridiculous!_" I exploded in half-horror, half-ravaging embarrassment. "We were quiet as mice, what are you talking about, you _stupid – _not even alive – _for Oz's sake – _didn't even cry out once – _ugh!_"

He ignored me, still sniggering as he hopped knowingly away into his corner behind the oak tree, taking care to flip a few torn items of clothing – and undergarments – across towards me. I caught them reflexively; before dropping them quickly, realising they weren't mine.

Oh _Oz…_

"Stupid, nosy, peeping, _interfering _Broomstick!" I shouted, to the silence of the clearing.

* * *

An answering moan, muffled with sleep, sounded from somewhere to the right of me.

I whipped round in horror, hands clapping over my own mouth –_ Oz-damnit, I'd completely forgotten about him_ – to see Fiyero stirring, hands rubbing at his eyes to clear them of sleep, blinking blearily up at me.

To my surprise…and silly, private little squirm of delight…a slow smile spread sleepily over his face.

"Mm…if only I could wake up to this every morning," he murmured, tone thick with sleep, though his eyes were wide awake as they travelled slowly up and down my body, clad much-too-scantily in his heavy Gale Force jacket. I felt the hugest, goofiest smile slide stupidly onto my face.

"_Every _morning?" I questioned dryly, as his eyes met mine again. "What – the wicked witch of the west bearing down on you? I wasn't joking last night, you know, that _is_ what they call me these days…"

"It suits you," he grinned, and then held out his arms. I didn't think twice; I was across the clearing and down in his waiting arms within the next second, bending to meet his kiss. His lips were warm and oddly dry, almost papery from sleep – but just as sweet, as delicious as my memories of last night, crushing against mine over and over and over…

…_Oz, I loved him…_

"I love you," he murmured upon drawing back, as casually as though he were simply commenting on the weather. I gazed down at him wordlessly, shaking my head from side to side in wonder –_ who would have thought it, two years ago, that I would end up here, now, wrapped in his arms, in _Fiyero's_ arms? _This pampered, preened, perfect prince who had driven me just about insane back at Shiz, infuriated me beyond belief, right from day one, practically run me over with his stupid, flashy Winkie-carriage…

"Elphaba? What are you thinking?" the said prince's voice drifted again to me through my flurry of disconnected thoughts. His fingers twined a little tighter around mine, squeezing them with the lightest of pressure, the deep lapis-lazuli blue of his eyes still gentle and open as they gazed at me. "Tell me. Please. Don't think I've ever seen Miss Elphaba Thropp go so long without talking…I'm going to start getting seriously worried if she doesn't start interrupting me left-right-and-centre again anytime soon."

He grinned widely, obnoxiously, whilst I glared at him.

"It's nothing _you _need to overwork your poor brains over, Captain," I retorted by way of my own gripe, injecting a lace of sarcasm – and then eyed him sceptically whilst he laughed, wondering whether he'd even remember his first day at university all these years later. "Just…Shiz. And carriages. Pushy, flashy, _Winkie _carriages – something _you _would know all about, I'm sure."

I grinned then, unable to stop myself; a flash of a smile that was both strange and wonderful to feel as it danced across my face. "And _thoroughly_ incompetent drivers. One, in particular."

In truth, I really hadn't expected him to remember – or secretly hoped he wouldn't – but he did. His face lit in a smile brighter and more beautiful than I knew mine could ever be.

"How could I forget?" He caught a handful of my tangled mop of hair, mussing it deliberately – I batted him away, scowling. "I swear by Oz, my poor carriage still bares some truly spectacular battle scars from a certain tantrum-throwing schoolgirl's attack upon it all those years ago –"

"Don't you start exaggerating, now -!"

"- aw, come on, even you've got to admit you lost it a bit with poor Avaric –"

" - I did _not_ -!"

"- you scared the living daylights out of him!" he declared, laughing now, long and loud, wonderful to listen to. "Honestly, Elphie, you should have seen his face –"

"Don't call me that," I snapped, not angrily – but firmly, this time. The nickname had been bad enough last night, but now, after all that had happened between us, combined with the memory of the person behind it, the certain golden-haired roommate who had created it…

No. This had to stop, now. I couldn't deal with it anymore, not now, not after…everything.

Fiyero was frowning.

"Call you what -?"

"You _know_ what, Fiyero, _Elphie_!"

The words came out sharper than I'd meant them to be. I bit my lip, wishing I could take them back – but he didn't flinch, only frowned a little; an unusual expression to grace his features.

"Why didn't you say anything about it last night?" he murmured, genuine question in his voice…but there was a grin playing at the edges of his lips as he spoke the words. His gaze was suddenly just a bit too intent, a bit too knowing. I glowered, looking quickly at my hands; thin sludge-green fingers splayed across his flawless bare chest.

"I had other things on my mind last night – _you _should know," I muttered – though my insides writhed at the very grinned widely, obnoxiously again – begging for a punch in the face to fill the impossibly loud silence…

…I clenched my fists, suddenly unable to look at him, my face flooding with heat in hot, burning little waves – _he was pushing it, this time, he really was – _but all snappish retorts were limp on my tongue, memories of last night drifting unwanted into my head again – _stop, stop, stop!_ _For Oz's sake, get a grip, Elphaba! Honestly, just look at yourself, as bad as any silly, frivolous, giggly little schoolgirl – _his eyes, unlike mine, still stared unblinking at me, and I was near-positive he was still grinning, watching and waiting, waiting for me to snap…

And then suddenly we were kissing again. Kissing like our lives depended on it, like we had seconds left before being parted forever; no more papery good-morning kisses, but hard and fast, deep and hungry, struggling to taste as much of him as I could in as little time as possible…

Because I knew, deep down, how little time we had left, now. We couldn't lie here, exchanging Shiz memories, curled in each other's arms forever – _though sweet Oz, that was a tempting thought_ – there was things to be sorted, plans to be formed, decisions to be made…

_After all, I _was _the so-called wicked witch of the west…_

The thought made me crush myself even tighter against him – and he responded almost as though he had read the thoughts in my mind. We clung to each other, one of my hands flat against his bare back, warm despite the chilly morning weather, the other tight around his neck, whilst his roamed my body…

But when one wandering hand began to grasp just a little too low, I reached to stop him – fingers twining with his as I pulled away, pushing him back onto the frosted ground, feeling a smile slip secretly onto my face at his quiet groan of disappointment.

"_Elphaba…_"

"If we start now," I murmured, pushing him away from me as firmly as I could – though every part of my much-too-warm body was already crying out for more, more, _more. _"Who knows when we'll stop? Honestly, didn't last night teach you anything…?"

"_Yes,_" he groaned, "oh Oz, yes, the best lessons ever…I'm telling you, if they'd taught me the things I learnt last night at all those posh old schools and universities, I'd never have got kicked out of a single one of them…!"

I snorted into laughter, unable to stop myself – _twice in one morning, what was _wrong _with me? – _my hated cackling mingling with his low chuckles as he kissed me ardently, no longer hard and driven; pure, open-mouthed, loving…adoring…

"Let's stay here," he breathed against my lips. "Just the two of us. These woods are treacherous, for my men, at least – they'd never set foot in here if you offered them all the emeralds in Glikkus, I swear. We'd be all alone…"

"Stop it," I murmured, unable to let myself think of it, let the wonderful, terrible temptation have time to penetrate my thoughts.

"But just _think _of it," he breathed, lips nestling the much-too-sensitive skin of my neck, and I did, I did, his words painting the pictures for me, papering them across the walls of my mind. "Just the two of us, just you and me, tucked away from the world, our own life, safe, together forever…"

..._forever with Fiyero, alone in our moonlit glade, forever and ever…_

Oz, I couldn't imagine anything more wonderful. More…beyond any happiness I ever could have fathomed for myself.

And more impossible.

I shook my head, near-desperate now, struggling to shatter the fantasy. "No. No, Fiyero, we've got to stop this, _you've _got to stop this, we've got to think _realistically_ here…"

"I think a few days hidden away in these woods is perfectly realistic!" he laughed, teasing that oh-so-sensitive point upon my neck again – _cursed Oz, he knew it was a weak spot, already._ "Just a few _days_ won't hurt anyone, Elphaba, you know that –"

"But –!"

"Shh," he soothed, laying me back on the frosted ground, and I felt him smile against my lips as I arched automatically against him. "It's going to be fine, I promise. I love you…"

"Oh Fiyero…" I sighed in half-pity, half-exasperation at his optimistic tone – _he just didn't get it, didn't understand – he had no idea what he'd got himself into, the silly, hopeful, childish, brainless, naïve fool…_

…_fool…_

…fool…

…but then…

…then…

…through his softly murmured words, the warm kisses against my throat, the sounds and sights and feel of nothing but Fiyero, Fiyero, Fiyero…

…a different sound. A humming, throbbing sort of noise, very far off, rising in pitch, in volume as it drifted closer and closer…

_What was it?_

The thought was faint, vague, barely present in my blissful, _Fiyero_-muddled mind…but it nagged. Tugged. Drew my attention towards it – and suddenly I was pushing him away again, and my eyes were open, eyebrows knitting together, creasing my features in a frown as it grew louder, louder, and rose, rose in pitch; a cry, less than a hum, like that of an Animal, or even a child…a familiar child…

"Elphaba?"

"Shh," I hissed, holding up a finger – and for the first time, he didn't try to argue with me, ceasing even in his kisses…he seemed to sense there was something wrong.

There _was _something wrong. Something very wrong. I didn't like it – the noise was much too loud now, a definite familiar child's cry, muffled and echoing, but still very much present. The wind whistled around us both, throwing my hair up into a banshee's halo over my face; it was definitely picking up, faster and angrier, making the trees bend and groan in protest around us…

Broomstick shot out suddenly from his oak tree hiding place, making Fiyero yelp in surprise – he darted into my arms, quivering fit to burst, bristles scratching my bare legs painfully as he scrabbled close as he could get to me – "It's all right," I murmured soothingly, holding him close, but it wasn't, it wasn't all right, and the wind was much, much too strong, blowing itself out of control…

…and that crying child still sounded on…

"Elphaba…?"

"Listen to it," I murmured, half to myself, half to Fiyero, who was watching me with concern etched across his features – Broomstick creaked and shuddered in my arms, and I stoked a few of his twigs comfortingly. "Listen. Who is it?"

He shook his head, bewildered. "I can't hear anyone. You sure it's not just the wind? Got to say, it's really picked up since last night – Elphaba, maybe we should think about moving somewhere more sheltered…"

"Shh!" I hissed, clapping a hand to his mouth.

"Mf-Elph-mf-ba –"

"_Shut up, _for Oz's sake!"

He shut up.

I scrambled up, then, clambering off him to stand – he groaned quietly in disappointment – Broomstick still clutched in my arms, my face turned up to the source of the noise. If I hadn't known better, I would have said it was coming almost from…the sky…?

And then the wind changed; sped, whirled into life, as though someone had let it loose from a cage, icy-cold as it clawed at me, making Broomstick bristle frantically; and far, far, far away in the endless misty sapphire blue of the early morning sky…something span and tumbled into sight.

I stifled a scream.

"_Elphaba!_" Fiyero's voice drifted to me, a cry of fear, and he was suddenly beside me, hands catching my shoulders, gazing wildly up at the point in sky I stared at, open-mouthed, jaw dropped, eyes wide with incredulity, with the impossibility of what I was seeing…

…what I _couldn't _be seeing…

…it was a…

…but it couldn't be a…

…but it was…

…it was…

…it _was…_

_

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_

_...a house..._


	7. Chapter 7

**IMPORTANT: Fellow Ozians, the Fourth Annual Wicked Awards are upon us! You can nominate your favourite stories/authors with just a few clicks. ****And, um, if you feel like nominating coughMecough...well, that would be wonderful and flattering and I would be very honoured :) just search for 'Fifth Annual Wicked Awards!' by 'the epic storytellers' ****either on the site, or via my favourites, or via my profile page.**

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…**um…hi…?**

***crickets chirp***

**Ok. I don't even deserve crickets, I know. But…the last chapter's finished, just so you know :) and here it is, in case any of you lovely devoted readers are still out there. If so…your loyalty is equal to few, and I thank you on bended knee for that :) enjoy!**

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"…a _house…_!" I almost choked in amazement, head shaking in half-horror, half-wonder. "Look at it! Look there, just there! Headed East, it's…it's…_flying…_"

And it was true. A little house – more a cottage really – a small, compact, wooden cottage with cream-painted windows and shutters…

"…where?" Fiyero was questioning frantically, eyes darting, searching the skies above us. "_Where, _Elphaba, where?"

"_There_!" I shouted at the top of my voice, practically ripping away from his arms to stumble across the clearing, Broomstick still clutched in my arms, the better to see the little cottage as it rolled over and over a thousand miles above me, the most impossible, most incredible, most unbelievable…

…but…

…through my disbelief, my wonder, my fascination as the little flying vessel sped and tumbled across its endless azure sea…

…the little crying girl still sounded on. Louder. Louder. Broken with little choking sounds, cries – a familiar voice, and yet so unfamiliar; calling to me, a little girl's sobs after she awakes from a nightmare, wheels herself into her big sister's bedroom, pleads to be allowed to sleep alongside her…

…Nessa…

…_Nessa…_

But it couldn't be. I shook my head hard, trying to knock some sense into it, the wind whistling against my ears – _of course_, it couldn't be, Nessa was back in Munchkinland, probably still waiting for her poor Boq to wake up, far away in the East…

…the East…

…the _East…_

…but that did, in a way, make sense, because…

…the house _was…_headed east…

* * *

"…Elphaba…?"

Fiyero's voice, far away, a million miles across a storm-tossed, gale-ridden ocean. I wanted to answer him, but my mouth was abruptly numb, trembling, unable to form words…

"Elphaba, what is it, what is it?"

…_it wasn't just one thing._ I knew that, now. It wasn't just one element of this whole ridiculous, otherworldly set-up raging around us both that was wrong.

It was everything. Everything…put together.

The weather. The wild, out of control wind tearing through our little clearing. The wind that had come so suddenly, so _unnaturally,_ changed everything so instantaneously, a change, the weather, a changing weather…_a change in the weather…_

…_Morrible…_

It was Morrible. This was _her _– all of it, my wicked, corrupted, detestable old headmistress's doing…

Then there was the house. Not very threatening all by itself, I supposed, but there was something about it…the strange build; neither Munchkin or Gilikin or Quadling or Winkie…no, this was something different, something alien altogether. And it was flying. Flying east.

_Nessa. _

…my poor, angry, helpless, torn-up little sister who I had abandoned so suddenly, so selfishly…my sweet, pretty little Nessa…

_They were going after Nessa._

The words pounded sickeningly against my skull.

_Oh sweet Oz, sweet Oz, sweet Oz… _

"I have to get to Nessa…"

"- what?"

Fiyero's voice again. Warm, gentle hands on my shoulders. His Gale Force jacket still limply pulled around me. A face – _his _face, wild with anxiety in front of me. Mop of hazel-hair snarled with twigs and leaves from the forest ground…

…and the house…helpless-looking as it bounced and spun away over the tree tops, almost out of sight now, and the wind calming around me, calming…quieting…

"…Elphaba," Fiyero was murmuring, over and over, and his arms enfolded around me, eyes lighting with relief as he saw my own focus on him. "Elphaba_…_it's ok, it's gone, it's over…Oz, you're trembling…"

"I'm _fine,_" I hissed, whipping my head from side to side as I tried to clear it – _I had no time for this, I had to go, go now, now, now …_

"- Elphaba…!"

I didn't answer him; I was out of his arms and away, dashing across the clearing and swiping up my clothes and boots.

".- Elphaba,what are you –"

"I have to get to Nessa," I blurted, tearing off his jacket and pulling underwear and dress over my head, scrabbling with the broken buttons; my hands were shaking, flimsy, like they'd been plunged in freezing water. His fingers closed over mine, helping me do them up.

"What?" he questioned. "_Who?_"

"My sister, Fiyero, my sister's in danger –"

"But how -?"

"- I don't know!" I burst out, snatching up my boots and wrenching them on. "I don't know, but that doesn't matter, there's no time to lose, I have to get to her before they do, before _it _does, I have to warn her -!"

"_Elphaba_ -"

"You find some place to shelter, in case the wind picks up again –"

"What? No -!"

"I'll find you later – I can fly there and back in a day, I'm sure I can –!"

"Fly _where -?_"

"To _Munchkinland,_ of course!"

He gaped wordlessly, eyes like saucers.

"_Munchkinland?_" he spluttered. "Elphaba – Elphaba, you _can't_ mean to fly all the way there and back through that gale, I won't let you -!"

"I'll fly high," I promised, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it tight. "I'll avoid it. You find somewhere to shelter, and let's arrange a place to meet."

"No – no, I'll come with you –"

"- Oz, _no, _you'll get yourself killed -!"

"- I don't care –"

"_No – _Oz, please, no!" I moaned, burying my face in one hand, because he _would _get himself killed, he would, because he was idiotic and reckless and stupid and the worst gunman I'd ever run from and if things came to a fight how could I protect him _too? _I couldn't do it – I wasn't strong enough, _wasn't good enough_, wasn't enough, enough, enough…

"Elphaba –"

"Tell me where we can meet, _please,_ Fiyero –"

"But –"

"_Please_."

He gazed at me a moment, taking in my expression. I said nothing, struggling to keep my breathing even; _I had to go, had to go, and we were wasting so much time…_

Then finally…finally…he shook his head, dragging a hand back through his hair, and sighed in defeat.

"Ok. Ok, let me think…maybe…there's a castle of my family's just north of the Great Kells, end of the Vinkus River? Full of hidey-holes and secret passages and all that. I mean, it's pretty run down, we don't actually _live_ there –"

"Where do you live?" I asked, before I could stop myself, and the most ridiculous array of images flashed through my mind; Fiyero, prince of the Vinkus, a great golden crown on his head, seated on some sort of ancient stone-carved Winkie throne, me seated beside –

- _Oz, Elphaba, get a grip. _

Fiyero was looking bashful, his gaze avoiding mine as he answered my question. "Well…um…the other castle."

"Oh. Of course."

_Idiot, Elphaba. _

"It's just west of Kiamo Ko," he hurried on. "That's the one we should meet at. With the secret passages. And a bed – I'm sure it's got a bed."

"Of course. Oz-knows we'd never be able to get by without _a bed._"

He coughed, covering his mouth to hide a smile. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"Do I?"

He pressed a swift kiss to my lips, hand squeezing mine. "Seriously, Kiamo Ko's the best place for us. It's ancient, half-falling down, a total rabbit warren of a place – no one'll ever find us in there. We'll be safe."

"North of the Great Kells, end of the Vinkus River?"

"That's the place."

"All right."

I made as if to pull away, Broomstick dashing into my arms so, eyes turning to the sky – but his arms held me fast, unmoving. I sighed.

"Fiyero –"

He said nothing, simply gathering me to him with both arms so he could kiss me. _Oh. _

Oz, of course. I hadn't even thought…who knew how long it would be before we saw each other…?

_Wrong thought. _I was kissing him back. Tangling my arms around him. Fixing the sight of him, the feel of him, the taste of him in my mind; safekeeping what I couldn't let myself forget_…_

Broomstick wriggled out from between us, battering his twigs against Fiyero's legs in a steady, methodical rhythm that was impossible for me to ignore – still, I tried.

"I know," I mumbled, between kisses. "I know – I know, we've got to go – quit that, Broomstick –!"

I didn't want to stop. Didn't want to end it. I was trying so hard not to think the words, trying, _trying_, but still they crept in…what if_…what if this was the last time …?_

Frantically, I clutched him closer, lips breaking from his so I could bury my face against his shoulder, his neck, his chest; warm, safe, vulnerable, protected, with him, together, _together…_

"We'll see each other again," I blurted, and then again, because saying it out loud seemed to make it truer, realer. "We'll see each other again, we will – we _will _–"

"Of course we will." His fingers combed the length of my hair; dusted my neck, my back, my waist. "Elphaba – we're going to be together always. Always." Then he chuckled; the sound had a strained, broken edge to it. "I mean, really…where in Oz am going to go now, without you? I'll need someone to fight off my own men hunting me down, won't I?"

I didn't say anything. Just kissed him again. Broomstick whacked me on the ankle.

"I love you." The words were pathetic, measly, so small. So inadequate. But I had nothing else.

"I love you. And we _will_, Elphaba. We will. I swear, ok?" he whispered against my hair, then ducked his eyes to mine again, his eyes very gentle. "You can see houses flying through the sky, Elphaba. Well…can't you see that?"

I had no answer. I wanted to scoff – _silly, romantic fool – _but at that moment…at that moment, I just couldn't_. _My eyes stared into his for an immeasurable moment, fixing that impossible look – _love, acceptance, admiration, reverence, care –_ in my mind. The look that made me feel like I'd never felt before, made me feel almost…almost…beautiful…

"Off you go, then – this little guy's obviously ready for you," he murmured, gesturing to Broomstick, who was quivering incandescently beside me. I sighed.

"You don't say."

Fiyero grinned, disentangling himself from me and pushing gently back. I flexed my fingers; pushed back my hair – _should have plaited it, but there wasn't time, now –_and then reached for Broomstick.

"All right."

Fiyero stood back whilst I mounted, scooping up his jacket with one hand and pulling it on. I hesitated, hovering half a foot in the air. _Oz. _Would he be able to make it so far West, with nothing but a gun and some frost-encrusted clothes?

He seemed to guess the train of my thoughts, and shook his head, smiling.

"I'll be fine, Elphaba. Totally fine. Don't worry about me, ok?"

I gave him my best sarcastic look, struggling not to smile. _How could someone _not_ worry about _you_, Fiyero?_

He only grinned, taking another step back as I rose to the sky, the wind whistling in my ears, bitingly cold. _Ugh. _I clenched my chattering teeth and wove between branches still dripping with morning dew, head craned over my shoulder to keep looking at him. Then I was through – and hovering high, free from the forest.

We surveyed each other wordlessly, me from the sky, him from the ground, one last time.

_Nessa. You have to get to Nessa._

I drew in a breath – crossed my fingers around Broomstick – and turned East.

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